


The Sweetest Submission

by SaltyCalm



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Assumed negotiation (not shown), Birthday Sex, Blowjobs, Bucky is a switch, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Gags, Hickeys, Humiliation, Incredibly Mild Feminization, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Steve is a switch, Topping from the Bottom, everyone has a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyCalm/pseuds/SaltyCalm
Summary: Steve is gone before Bucky wakes. On their table is a note in Steve’s slanted handwriting. Bucky smiles, still in the haze of sleep - sweet of his best guy to leave him a birthday note even though he plenty well knows they’re going to have all night to celebrate together. Nothing like a little note and one of Steve’s signature sketches in the corner to put an extra skip in his step today -Bucky actually picks up the note and reads the two brief sentences.Oh.Oh,fuck.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 16
Kudos: 237





	The Sweetest Submission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenGremlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenGremlin/gifts).



> Happy birthday Cars. When I first started my marvel twitter account you were the first person to be excited about my writing. You were my cheerleader, my first friend, you give me shit and make me laugh. I’m so grateful for your friendship, for your honesty, your acceptance, your nicknames, and for talking every day. I’ve never had to be anything more or less than myself with you. You’re understanding, you’re smart, and you’re a hell of a friend to have. I’m so fucking grateful to know you. I hope you know I value you and care about you every single day.  
> Somewhat in the words of Elton John, my gift is my explicit porn without plot, and this one’s for you :)
> 
> [Thank you @elliebbarnes and @_cydonic for beta-ing!]

Steve is gone before Bucky wakes. On their table is a note in Steve’s slanted handwriting. Bucky smiles, still in the haze of sleep - sweet of his best guy to leave him a birthday note even though he plenty well knows they’re going to have all night to celebrate together. Nothing like a little note and one of Steve’s signature sketches in the corner to put an extra skip in his step today - 

Bucky actually picks up the note and reads the two brief sentences. 

Oh. 

Oh, _fuck._

***

The instructions were simple, and Bucky followed them to the letter.

He’s cleaned and bare, kneeling on the wood floor of their apartment when he hears Steve’s footsteps up the stairs. His skin prickles when the door unlocks, then opens and shuts with a decisive thud. He knows what Steve must be seeing - his straight back, ass resting on his heels, no part of his body hidden from Steve’s observant eye. He shivers under the heavy gaze he feels in the silence. 

Footsteps move from the doorway, cross to the table. Clothing rustles, and Bucky sees Steve taking off his jacket in his mind, his blue eyes cold and fixed on Bucky even as he goes through the motions of coming home. There’s a few thuds, the clink of their glasses, the faucet running, and then gulping as Steve drains the glass. It’s loud in the silence. Just Steve exhaling as he sets the glass down, and Bucky’s heart beating out of his chest. 

Steve crosses the floor to him, and Bucky instinctively sucks in a breath and stiffens, not daring to move or break his ramrod pose. His hands are folded on his lap, and he can feel his toes already starting to fall asleep under the weight of his body, but it doesn’t matter. This is what Steve asked of him.

He flinches when Steve’s hand, cold and dry like always, brushes from his ear down his neck.

“Shh. Easy,” Steve soothes from behind him, his voice sounding even deeper than normal, and Bucky can’t help the shiver that runs down his whole body. He inhales and exhales intentionally, feeling his muscles let go of the edge of tension. “There you go,” Steve says in the same tone, easy as anything.

His hands glide over Bucky’s shoulder blades, tease at the nape of his neck where he loves to be scratched. One hand trails idly over his collarbone towards a hardened nipple, but pulls away before reaching it. Bucky wants to whine but chokes it back before it fully forms in his throat.

“I’ve brought you a present,” Steve says. Bucky tilts his head. Is he allowed to respond?

“It’s okay, baby,” Steve assures, as if reading his mind.

Bucky is mortified to feel his voice crack on the first syllable. “What is it?”

Something, somehow equal parts rough and smooth, brushes against Bucky’s cheek.

“I think you’ll like it, honey. It’s gonna make you look real pretty.”

Steve shifts behind him, something rustles, and then Steve is taking Bucky’s hands from where they politely rested in his lap and bringing them around to his back - 

Sweet Jesus, Steve bought _rope_. Steve brought rope home and he’s going to tie Bucky up with it.

Bucky feels his dick stir fully to life as the rope winds around his wrists, the knot secure but not cruelly tight. Then Steve’s cool hands move down, and Bucky feels a tug on his wrists and the rope winding around his half-asleep ankles. The rope tugs again, and Bucky’s chest forces forward, his back in a shallow but unforgiving curve.

Steve just tied his wrists together and then connected it to his bound ankles.

_Jesus Mary and Joseph what the fuck is he in for_.

“You’re doin’ real good, Buck.” Steve says, and finally comes around to Bucky’s front.

He’s got faded trousers on, suspenders hanging off his narrow hips. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up, and Bucky hates himself a little for looking hungrily at the bare skin of Steve’s forearms.

Steve’s expression is neutral when Bucky looks up. His eyes trace across Steve’s mouth, set in a line, over the bump in his nose, his appraising eyes.

Then he notices the rope, finally seeing it for the first time, twining through long fingers. Bucky can’t help the whimper that escapes his lips.

Steve crouches and winds the rope delicately, carefully around Bucky’s arms and across his chest. He touches Bucky perfunctorily, as if he was doing something as mundane as tying his shoes. Bucky’s gut clenches looking at Steve’s focused gaze, his eyelashes long and dark and brushing over his cheeks. He doesn’t even look at Bucky’s dick, rock hard and flushed already at the tip, just ties knots in the rope around Bucky’s torso. Like twine around a gift box, Bucky thinks to himself idly.

“There,” Steve says at last, standing. He takes his time looking Bucky up and down. Bucky flushes, fidgeting in his bonds.

“Look at you, Buck. So pretty.”

“ _Ngh_ ,” Bucky drops his head, looking somewhere in the direction of his knees, unable to bear the weight of Steve’s gaze, not when he’s like this.

“I wish you could see yourself,” Steve murmurs close to his ear. He’s on his knees at Bucky’s side now, and licks across Bucky’s ear, making him gasp and try to pull away as far as his bonds will allow.

Steve chuckles low in his throat, and then his mouth is on Bucky’s neck, hot and wet and _sharp_ — 

“Ah!” Bucky hisses as Steve sucks a mark into his skin. Steve hums and moves to his shoulder, the next mark bordering on pain. Bucky groans in response, unable to suppress the full body shudder as Steve tips his chin up and nibbles at his jaw. He whines helplessly when Steve licks at his collarbone, grazes his teeth over it. The next hickey blooms hot and angry, and Bucky moans when Steve bites at the spot.

Steve takes his sweet, methodical time, and Bucky’s skin is on fire from every place he’s sucked Bucky’s skin between his teeth. His cock is leaking precome now, still untouched, and Bucky can’t keep in his sounds anymore. 

“ _Nnngh, uhhn, uhhn_ ,” he moans, chest heaving against the ropes. “ _Ahh, ahh, Steeeve!_ ”

“I’ve got you baby. I’ve got you,” Steve croons, sucking a final bite over his pec.

He stands up and opens his pants, shoving them down just enough to free his erection. Steve shuffles forward, his cock bobbing in front of Bucky’s face.

“I know what you need,” he says in response to Bucky’s whimper. “Can you get my cock wet first, doll?”

A cry escapes Bucky’s lips as Steve nudges forward, tracing his lips with the leaking tip of his dick, and then he’s feeding it into Bucky’s mouth, salty and velvet soft.

“Show me what that mouth of yours can do, Buck.”

Oh, God. Bucky tips his head back and sucks properly, wrapping his lips around Steve’s length and bobbing his head along the shaft. 

Bucky has grown to love sucking dick. He wasn’t a natural at it, unlike a certain pipsqueak who takes it like a champ despite his asthma, but he got more and more confident the more he did it. One of his favorite things to do nowadays is get Steve on his back in bed — or up against the door or on the couch or pressed up to the wall for that matter — with Steve’s dick in his mouth and Steve’s heated groans filling his ears. He loves to try something new with his tongue or be adventurous with his teeth (lightly, of course) and see what reaction it elicits from Steve. 

This is nothing like that.

Steve, normally so responsive, doesn’t make a sound as Bucky works over his cock with his mouth. Bucky slides his tongue along the shaft, groaning quietly as Steve’s taste fills his senses. He presses full, wet kisses around the tip, all the way down to the base, licks at his balls. Steve doesn’t make a sound louder than breathing.

Bucky feels saliva pooling, threatening to drip down the corner of his mouth, and his wrist twitches against the ropes to wipe it away. The reality of his helplessness sinks in, provoking a whine from his lips even as he sucks him down again. He’s going to drool over Steve’s cock, drool a puddle into the floor, maybe, and there’s not a thing he can do about it.

Steve’s hand rests lightly on his cheek, and Bucky wonders if he can feel his dick in Bucky’s mouth when he hollows his cheeks.

“There you go, baby, that’s good,” Steve’s voice sounds more strained now, and Bucky glances up to see his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dark, even as he’s continuing his game of passive indifference. 

Well, two can play at that game. 

Bucky locks eyes with Steve as he hollows his cheeks and pulls off, almost completely, then pushes back down until his nose presses into coarse hairs. The fingers that are gently curled around his cheek tighten slightly, and Bucky drops his jaw further until he feels the nudge against the back of his throat.

“ _Fuck_ , yeah Buck, yeah,” Steve grinds out, almost involuntarily, and Bucky holds it a moment longer before coming off with a wet gasp, then takes it again, holding even longer before he pulls off and laps at the precome gushing from the tip.

Steve moans, and Bucky swirls his tongue around the underside of the shaft the way he knows will drive Steve crazy. He’s rewarded by another, more tortured sounding moan, and Steve’s fingers inch around to twist into his hair.

“That’s it, you’re so good, sugar.”

There’s a loud whimper following the praise, and Bucky realizes, belatedly, it came from his own throat. A sight he makes, all trussed up and sopping wet, choking himself on dick like a starving man, hungry to be praised.

“Come on,” he hears, distantly, above himself, and then Steve’s fingers frame his skull and guide his mouth up and down. “Your mouth is so good, Buck, feels so good. Lemme.”

And then Steve’s holding his face in place and — oh Jesus, Bucky’s cheeks flush instantly red — Steve’s fucking his mouth, taking what he wants, they’ve never had sex this intense before.

He can’t stop gagging and sputtering now, as Steve practically grinds his hips against his face. Steve changes the angle and Bucky nearly squeals when his throat feels full.

“Almost there,” Steve says between breaths, “you’re so good, baby.”

He sucks wantonly as Steve pumps his hips, his eyes screwed up as he’s pushed over and over down to the base. And then Steve lets out a sharp moan, his hips are stilling, he’s — 

Steve pulls out completely, and Bucky cranes his neck forward to follow, but it’s too late, Steve’s coming, and Bucky feels a new wave of heady mortification as warmth spatters across his face, along his neck, on his collarbones.

No matter what possibilities flashed through his mind this morning when he read Steve’s note, not even his wildest imaginings saw him here, bound on his knees on their floor, red-faced and covered in Steve’s come.

Steve surveys his work, eyes gleaming now with a new light, and bends down quick to press a gentle, burning kiss on Bucky’s come-covered lips. Bucky feels his own erection straining, cock twitching.

How’s a man supposed to live like this? “Steve, please,” he begs. “Please fuckin’ touch me, baby I need it, please.”

Steve lets his trousers finally drop to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. He unbuttons his now-disheveled shirt, and when it slides off his arms he’s fully naked, cock starting to soften between his legs.

He steps up close to Bucky again, and Bucky’s pulse kicks up. His own erection must surely be gushing precome now, begging for Steve’s long fingers wrapped around it. 

But Steve doesn’t crouch down, doesn’t even seem to notice Bucky’s pleading dick. He holds his hand out, flat and open in front of Bucky’s face.

Bucky turns pleading eyes to Steve’s stolid face. “Steve?”

Steve just emphasizes his open palm. “Spit.”

A man could die from this. Bucky’s eyes nearly roll back from the sheer dominance Steve’s using on him.

He scrunches his face up and spits generously into Steve’s palm.

Steve cracks, then. His eyes sparkle with a different light and he flashes Bucky one pure, shit-eating grin —

Right before he turns, kneels on the floor a few feet in front of Bucky, elbows on the floor and ass in the air, and brings his spit-covered fingers around to his waiting hole, exposed and on display.

_Holy fuck, Steve._

Bucky can’t even breathe and his pulse roars in his ears as he watches, transfixed, as Steve works his fingers between his ass cheeks to the furl of his hole, circling the rim and making the pinkness glisten with spit.

He tips his head to the side, resting his forehead on the hand bracing against the floor. His eyebrows are already drawn up together and his dark golden bangs flop sideways. Bucky feels as if he might come completely untouched just watching Steve’s fingers pressing at his hole.

Steve curls one finger and presses delicately at the tight muscle, letting a soft, gutted “ _uhn_ ” escape his lips at the sensation, and Bucky’s vision nearly whites out. It’s too much to handle but he still can’t look away, transfixed by the single wet digit working in and out of Steve’s hole, the last of the sunset’s afterglow bathing Steve’s naked body in soft rosy light.

“Steve, baby please, _Steve pl-please_ ,” Bucky realizes he’s babbling. He sounds like he’s being fucked into next week, his skin is on fire, the only thing touching him is the come drying on his face and shoulders. His own asshole clenches down repeatedly on nothing, the muscle throbbing so intensely Bucky distantly worries if he may start crying from this. 

Steve groans, a delicious, fucking unfair sound, and sucks on a second finger, twisting it in alongside the first. Bucky watches him scissor them, stretching his hole obscenely, and Bucky groans at the same time that Steve buries his face in his arm and lets out a loud moan.

“ _Eugh, uhn_ , Steve, _fuck_ baby...baby…” Bucky wails, squirming his hips as much as he can with the ropes keeping him in place. His cock and his ass are _aching_ , begging for Steve to touch him, fuck him, untie him so he can rub off on the nearest piece of furniture like a desperate animal, _anything_.

“ _Ah, ah! Uhn, uhhnn,”_ is the only sound Steve makes in reply, scissoring and fucking those two fingers in and out of his ass. His body has started to relax, accepting the intrusion, and Bucky is left with the tortuous decision of whether to watch Steve’s hole or the expressions on his face as he fucks himself.

Steve is truly a sight, a light sheen of sweat dampening his blond hair, his shoulder blades and the curve of his spine catching the light as he twists around to open himself up. His eyes roll back as he stuffs himself with a third finger, the squelch of the movement accompanied by Steve’s whorish moans that only get louder as his hole gapes wider.

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice sounds broken as he continues to chant Steve’s name. He’s clenching his own ass so hard he might bust a vein, his cock is so hard it’s painful. The room smells like sweat and sex and sounds like it too, both of their panting breaths loud and wet and heavy, Bucky’s desperate whines and Steve’sgutted moans.

Bucky well and truly nearly dies when Steve slams his face down into his arm and makes a muffled, “ _Nnnngh!”_ sound as he shoves a fourth finger in, twisting them around and no doubt hitting his prostate.

Bucky sobs. He’s on fire. This is how he’s going to die. 

His breathing is ragged as he watches Steve gently pull his fingers out, gliding a few times around the rim, and then his back heaves as he catches his breath, body writhing in small, wanton motions.

Bucky is silent as he watches, finally, Steve push himself to his knees, then to his feet. Then he’s turning around and oh, his dick is hard again, flushed and red and wanting. He’s walking up to Bucky, he’s finally going to touch — 

Steve wraps his fingers around Bucky’s cock and Bucky nearly comes on the spot. He digs his teeth into his lower lip as Steve tugs once, twice, it _hurts_ , he’s so hard, and then Steve is shifting his hips over Bucky’s, he’s crouching down —

“Aaaahh!” Bucky hears himself, long and loud, and his face is twisting as if in pain as Steve lowers himself onto Bucky’s cock. He’s _tight_ , for all his prep, Jesus so fucking tight and hot and slick, Bucky really is going to die from this.

Steve slowly lowers himself all the way, groaning low in his throat as he’s filled. They’re both sweating, and Steve gently readjusts his body weight to keep from tipping Bucky off balance. He doesn’t move for a long moment, just lets them both adjust to the tight heat of Bucky filling Steve up. Bucky takes one deep breath and feels the heated cloud around his senses begin to clear.

And then Steve rolls his hips.

“ _Mnnngh_ ,” Bucky groans as Steve raises off his dick in small, gentle thrusts. It’s not fast, but it’s thorough and deliberate and Bucky finds himself groaning harder and longer. Steve alternates between rolling his hips and fucking with pointed, direct thrusts that push breathy whimpers from Bucky’s lips.

The ropes around Bucky’s wrists burn as he wiggles and struggles to stay upright while Steve bounces on his dick, the pain giving everything a sharp, jagged edge. Steve might be the one physically taking his dick, but Bucky’s the one so thoroughly and helplessly at his mercy. Steve’s ass may be full, but Bucky’s the one getting fucked.

“I’m gonna come,” he whispers when Steve does something spectacular with his hips, and Steve immediately slows to a lazy, indulgent roll. 

Bucky keens loudly. “ _Steve.”_

“Ssh, honey.”

Steve twists with his hips, clenching as he slides up, then down on Bucky’s cock. Bucky gulps back a sob.

There’s a certain movement Steve does when he rides Bucky that Bucky loves. He settles himself in Bucky’s lap and takes what he needs from Bucky’s dick, and at some point, when his body fully adjusts to the intrusion, he bears down and makes every thrust deep and fast and filthy. Bucky loves feeling that fresh wave of animalistic abandon when Steve fucks himself with obvious hunger, getting what he needs and enjoying the hell out of it.

Bucky can tell, now, he’s almost reached that point. Steve’s starting to make little growling noises and he pumps his hips faster, losing himself to the feeling of being so full.

It’s too much. “Steve, I’m —” is as far as Bucky gets before Steve slows again, almost stopping his movement entirely.

It’s maddening. “Steve, you gotta let me come, please, _please_ , you gotta,” Bucky babbles, sweat dripping into his eyes and his hands and feet well and truly numb and gone, his arousal low in his gut, just on the edge of release. “Let me come, let me come, _lemme come._ ”

Steve huffs and eases off Bucky’s dick entirely, and Bucky cries out mournfully. 

Steve gingerly steps around to the kitchen, out of Bucky’s sight, and returns a second later with something in his hands.

“You talk too much, doll.” Simple as that, and then Steve’s prying his jaw open and filling his mouth with a clean rag.

Bucky whines, high and keening like a puppy, but Steve doesn’t even bat an eye as he ties off the gag with another piece of cloth wrapped around his skull. “There. Now you let me do this without all your distracting whining and begging, hm?”

And then Steve bears down until he’s completely full and grinds his hips in a way that makes Bucky squeal, muffled behind the gag. Cool fingers pinch his nipples and cruelly twist, and Bucky tries to gasp, nostrils flaring. Steve tugs this way and that, pinching harder and harder until Bucky is practically screaming through the cloth stuffed in his mouth.

Steve scrapes the edge of his fingernail over one nipple, and Bucky’s eyes roll back as he nearly comes on the spot. Steve infuriatingly slows down his movements on Bucky’s cock as he coos, “Wish you could see what a wreck you are, Buck.”

He leans in and bites over a hickey he already placed on Bucky’s neck, and it’s all Bucky can do not to twist away from the onslaught and topple to the floor in a heap. Steve carries on, biting and laving at the tender marks on Bucky’s skin.

Then Steve pulls away, and Bucky doesn’t see the slap coming. It’s gentle, for what it is, but it still makes Bucky reel and tears prickle in his eyes. Another open-handed tap to the opposite cheek, and Bucky turns wide, pleading eyes to Steve, who’s still grinding filthily on Bucky’s lap.

The only response he gets is another _“Ssh,”_ and a sharp tug on his nipple.

It goes on like that, Steve fucking him fast, then slow, torturing his nipples with long, hard pinches and tugs, and then slapping his cheeks, raising heat and pink marks that fade in an instant. Everytime Bucky gets close, and of course Steve knows when he’s close even without him saying so, Steve slows or stops moving entirely.

Bucky’s lost all sense of time when finally, tears leaking from his eyes and clumping in his eyelashes, face pink and stinging, jaw aching, nipples and neck sore and aching and on fire, he feels the tension coil in his gut, uncontrollable and demanding. He only has time to gasp out a muffled, “Steve, I -” before Steve presses a burning, sloppy kiss to his parted lips. Bucky sobs against Steve’s lips as the tightness in his gut crests.

A blur of motion, a sharp tug, and then everything whites out as Steve slips off of Bucky’s lap just as he starts to come.

“Muhh, muhhh,” Bucky cries, the sound torn ragged from his lips as ribbons of spunk paint his abdomen. His face _burns_ as he realizes he’s now covered in both Steve’s come and his own.

His chest heaves against the ropes as he gulps in air through his nose. A gentle hand tugs out the gag, then nudges into his hair, and Bucky instantly leans into it, weight slumping against Steve’s side. His eyes flutter closed as Steve pets through his hair, fingers rubbing soothing lines into his skull. He’s murmuring something, but Bucky’s too spaced out to focus in on it. The tone sounds like praise, so Bucky sighs contentedly.

After some time Steve gently props Bucky back up on his own weight and moves behind him. Bucky can’t help the lingering moans when the binds fall away one by one. Steve gently rubs out his ankles, massages his wrists, then comes around to his front and eases the ropes off his chest, and then kisses him gently.

“How ya doin, Buck?”

Bucky tips his head drowsily up to him, and he knows how he looks: completely fucked out, spent, out of it.

Steve leans in and kisses his forehead. “You all done, pal? Or can you stick with me for a little more?”

If Bucky could, he’d be pinning Steve with an incredulous look. As is it, all he can do is loll his head to the side and rasp, “More?”

“I had one last thing in mind, but if you’re done we can be done.” Steve’s fingers find the back of his skull, rubbing idly, and Bucky hums and presses into the touch.

“Okay.”

Steve crouches down and looks him straight in the eye. To Bucky it feels like looking straight into the sun. “Are you sure, pal?”

“Yeah, Stevie.”

Steve grins, then, direct fucking sunlight, and he stands and offers Bucky a hand.

He’s stiff to rise, and Steve makes him sit and stick out his legs while he rubs feeling back into them. Bucky groans as the pins and needles come in waves over his legs, and he sighs gratefully when Steve brings him a glass of water.

“I love you, Stevie.”

Steve’s face softens adorably. “I love you too.” And then he’s kissing Bucky, all sweet lips and soft mouth, and between coming down from orgasm and Steve’s ministrations, Bucky finds himself hopelessly intrigued by whatever else Steve planned to do with him, his spent cock twitching in interest.

“Okay, Steve, ‘m ready.”

And then Bucky finds himself herded over to their bed, and he’s on the verge of opening his mouth and asking Steve what they’re going to get up to next when Steve grabs a fistful of his hair and pushes his face down firmly into the mattress.

“You good?” Steve asks in his normal voice.

Bucky feels his pulse kick up, arousal nudging out everything else. “Yeah, yeah m’good.”

Steve leans in and smacks a kiss soundly on his cheek, and the next time he speaks his voice is that cold, dominant thing he used when they were on the floor. “This is a present for you, doll, but you gotta help. Just count them out for me, keep track, alright?”

Keep track? Bucky barely has a chance to wonder because Steve’s hand jiggles one asscheek, then slaps it sharply.

“Ungh!” Bucky tries to twist away on instinct, but Steve still has one hand fisted in his hair, and the other grips his hip.

“Count for me, baby.”

“O-one,” he gasps out.

 _Smack_ , this time on the other cheek. Bucky’s still trying to gather himself and waits too long to count, and it takes Steve tugging at his hair to make him croak out, “Two.”

_Smack, smack._

“Three. Four. _Oh god_.” Bucky groans into the mattress despairingly.

Steve’s palm runs over the swell of his ass and Bucky can’t help but tense in anticipation every time he lifts his hand.

The next slap is much harder, and Bucky bites his lip to keep from shrieking. “Fuck, five, _fuck._ ”

The sixth hits directly in the center, right over his hole, and Bucky pushes his face into the mattress and groans.

“Bucky.”

“ _Nnngh, s-s-six._ ”

_Smack, smack, smack._

“FUCK! Steve, fuck! Oh my god, _seveneightnine,_ _fuck,_ Steve…”

His hips jump off the mattress when Steve cracks a sharp backhand off his ass. There’s not a shred of dignity left in his body now, all broken whimpers and sniffles, a whispered, “Ten” and a fresh onslaught of tears. His ass is sore, probably a new shade of pink, now, and if Steve’s going to the number Bucky thinks he is, then they’re not even halfway done.

Now Steve’s hand moves soothingly, gently over his stinging ass, loosening the tension at the small of Bucky’s back.

“Take a deep breath, doll.”

It’s deep but shuddering, wet with the sobs he’s been struggling to contain. His ass is _sore_ , dammit, but Bucky feels high on the delicious thrill that runs up his spine, dirty and hungry for more.

Then Steve spanks him on the exhale, and the rest of his breath comes out in a ragged, sharp moan.

“Eleven,” he gasps, then his cheeks are hot and wet — Lord, he’s well and truly crying now, taken apart with one hand gripping his hair and the other turning his ass red. It’s only fucking _Monday_ , he’s gonna be sore tomorrow, wincing every time he moves or sits down — 

The hit cracks off the side of his ass, going straight to his core and pulling his mind out from where it had trailed off. Bucky grits his teeth and wheezes. “Twelve.”

 _Smack._ “Thirteen.” _Smack._ “Fourteen,” he sobs, and he can’t help the way his hips twist now, trying to avoid the pain.

 _Thud._ Bucky flinches, but it was the sound of Steve’s knees hitting the floor. Warm breath dances over the backs of his thighs, and Bucky can’t help all of his muscles clenching and unclenching.

Cool fingers slip between his cheeks, spreading them apart, he feels the cool air and Steve’s warm breath mixing against his exposed skin, and then Bucky gasps a punched out “Ohh” as Steve licks a stripe up from his perineum over his hole.

“Steve! Steve!” Bucky sobs as Steve keeps his cheeks spread and eats Bucky’s ass like a starving man, showering it with deep, wet kisses and probing licks. Steve moans in response, muffled in Bucky’s skin, and the vibrations make Bucky wiggle against him.

When he’s spanked again it’s like starting all over, the attention on his hole wiping out the rest of his short term memory. He nearly screams, feeling this one harder than all the ones before. 

“Fif-six? Sixteen, sixteen,” he babbles, and lets out a gutted _Uhn, uhn, uhn_ as the next three fall in between Steve’s ministrations to his hole. 

“Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. God!”

The sounds in the room are sloppy and obscene between Bucky’s heated whines and Steve’s wet kisses and licks to his hole. Steve can’t seem to stop moaning now, even as he sucks and laves at Bucky’s entrance. He probes with his tongue, breaching the ring of muscle, and Bucky’s hand shoots out and slaps the mattress, unable to contain himself.

“Steve!”

Fingers dig into the meat of his ass, drawing a pained, fucked-out groan from his throat, and then Steve’s pushing himself to his feet, one finger circles Bucky’s slick rim, and Bucky whimpers plaintively.

Another stinging slap to his ass just as Steve nudges his finger inside. 

“Uhnngh, oh oh ohhhhh. _Fuck._ Twe-twenty.”

_Slap._

“Twenty-one.”

Steve’s finger probes deeper. Bucky keens. 

He hears Steve spit, feels the warm wetness over his hole, groans as a second finger pushes it inside.

_Slap._

“Twenty-two.”

Steve scissors his fingers, and Bucky can feel himself opening easily. He’s in a haze, arousal and pain and need tipping over the edge. He’s falling.

_Slap._

“Twenty-three.”

One for every birthday. Steve coos, satisfied, and nudges a third finger beside the other two. He rubs the small of Bucky’s back and kisses between his shoulder blades.

“Good job, baby. Up up.”

Steve nudges him up onto the bed, gently, and arranges his limbs before climbing up beside him.

“Steve,” he mumbles mournfully.

“Right here, honey.”

“Want your cock,” he slurs.

Steve hums, pleased. “You’ll get it, honey.”

And then Steve’s settling his body weight over Bucky, and isn’t that the sweetest kind of relief, feeling Steve pressing down on him.

Steve peppers kisses along his spine, across his shoulders, at the soft skin of his neck. And then Bucky feels him nudge at his slick entrance, and he intakes an anticipatory breath.

Pressure — insistent and throbbing — forces an overwhelmed “ _Ooohhh…”_ from Bucky as his body accepts the intrusion. Steve pushes in, a steady, building pressure that has Bucky gasping.

They both groan when Steve is finally buried to the hilt. Bucky rests his head on his arm and twists around to watch Steve’s face as his eyes close in ecstasy and his mouth drops into a gentle ‘o.’

“Move, jerk,” Bucky mumbles without any heat behind it, and Steve cracks a twisted grin and pulls his hips back. 

He thrusts home and the smirk is wiped off Bucky’s face instantly, his face morphing into a mix of pleasure and pain.

 _“Uhn, uhn, uhn,”_ he moans softly on each thrust, head still craned around to watch Steve as he fucks him.

Steve lowers to his forearms, his breath warming one spot on the back of Bucky’s shoulder, and tangles his fingers with Bucky’s, prone atop the blanket.

He must know as well as Bucky does that he won’t last long in this position — not after the day they’ve had — so he makes the most of it, easily going from solid, slow thrusts to fast, heated fucking. Steve may be smaller, but he knows how to fuck Bucky into the mattress. His ass is still warm, the edge of the sting gone by now, but the pressure still elicits a moan every time Steve’s hips slam up against them. Bucky watches sweat bead around Steve’s forehead, drip down one loose lock of hair, spatter onto Bucky’s back, and he moans and tightens his fingers with Steve’s.

Steve rocks his body into the mattress, the friction against Bucky’s erection just enough. He feels completely bracketed by Steve’s body, pressed down and secure and owned. After what Steve’s done to him today, how could he feel anything else?

“You’re mine, Bucky,” Steve snarls out between desperate breaths, between vicious thrusts. “Mine to ruin, always.”

Bucky cries out, and he’s coming, unexpectedly but no less burning and sweet. He comes, pulsing hot against himself and the sheets. And then Steve’s dropping his torso along his back, he’s gripping Bucky’s shoulders, and he thrusts his hips even faster, losing all sense of rhythm, and even though Bucky’s already come he cries out. Steve wraps one arm around Bucky’s front, holding him against himself, braces the other hand on the bed, and stills inside of Bucky with a low, punched out _“Ohhh.”_

He comes, hot and thick and filling Bucky’s insides, and Bucky whimpers at the feeling, already imagining how it will look leaking out between his bruised cheeks.

“Steve,” he whispers, reaching around to beg with his lips. Steve kisses him, heated and sweaty and loving. 

“Happy birthday, baby.”

***

It’s well and fully dark when Bucky wakes up. He’s still on his stomach, one leg curled up to his chest. He hopes he never has to move again in his life.

His body doesn’t quite feel like a body. It feels like a warm, pleasant sting, like his limbs are made of molasses.

Steve stirs, warm and wrapped around his back, and whispers, “Hey, Buck.”

His voice comes out as groggy as he feels. “Do I stihcomey?”

“What?”

“Do I still ha’ come on me?”

Steve chuckles fondly. “I wiped you all clean right before you fell asleep. Rubbed your arms and legs too.”

“Oh. Don’t remember. I love you.”

Steve props himself up on his elbow and pecks a warm, lingering kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “I love you too, baby.”

He settles back and kneads at Bucky’s shoulders and he hums gratefully. 

“Wanna get under the covers, pal?”

They scoot under the blanket and Steve tugs it over their shoulders, breathing contented sighs as they press closer together, tangling their legs.

“Was that okay back there, Buck?”

“Hm?”

“What we did. What I did to ya. Did you like it?”

“Jesus, Steve.” Bucky flips himself over and tugs Steve into his arms. “Loved every second.” He kisses the top of his head. “You’re really somethin’ Stevie. Don’t know what I did to get to have you.”

Steve brushes his fingers across Bucky’s cheek, into his hair, and Bucky takes advantage of his raised arm, giving the soft flesh near his armpit a pinch. 

“Ow! Asshole, what was that for?”

“For me not being able to sit down tomorrow.”

Steve huffs, but Bucky imagines his smug smirk in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found [on the bird app](https://twitter.com/sunbardy).


End file.
